Skip to main content

I > ^ v

Translation: I am greater than the highs and lows.

It's Tuesday night and I don't usually write while my blood sugar is low, but I decided I would give it a shot (ha, nice pun there April). I've been in sort of a diabetes black hole lately - I feel like I put lots of work in, but nothing great has been coming out. In fact, if you really drill down to the basics of a chronic illness, that is about the best you can hope for. Ugh, it's so depressing sometimes. Even with the best of blood sugar control there's no guarantee you will escape the wrath of "complications".

And being low is just, well, it's just the worst.

Obviously, it makes me a little agitated - these words are proof. And frustrated, and emotional. I can't put sentences together well, my mental to-do list is wiped clean, and my attention absolutely diverts from task-at-hand to survival mode. My CGM is probably vibrating...annoyingly. And that constant out-of-body reminder is incredibly infuriating while the in-body symptoms are so, so present. I get it CGM, you want me to know I'm low, but how about I just throw you across the room right now hmmmkkk?

At the same time this attention seeking bandwidth hog is jumping up and down with a hand raised and shouting something like, "hey you dummy, look at me, completely ruining whatever moment you were having!!!" I am in a complete fog and gullible enough to bend to his wishes, because, I guess my life sort of depends on it. Wow, that was a long sentence, huh? Again, I am really straining against my brain's underlying consciousness which is simply repeating "food, food, food, food, food, food, food, food, food, food, food, food" right now, similar in frequency to my two-year old's "Moanna" broken record.

So, how did I get here, to this low blood sugar, now? I ate food and bolused for it. Honestly, it was that simple. And in my haste to deal with a whiny toddler who is on the back end of a little virus and, at the same time, prepare the 4-month-old's bottle, I counted the carbohydrates incorrectly. And therefore, administered too much insulin. Which was literally fine for a solid 2 hours, but then it all fell apart - my heart sank as I shifted my attention away from tucking my daughter into bed and instead focused on those double down arrows accompanied by a tanking blood sugar reading. By the time I got downstairs, I had disconnected my pump in a feeble attempt to stop exacerbating the problem, but it was too late. I was already staring down the barrel of a 58 mg/dL.

I rummaged through the refrigerator in search of carbohydrates. Thank god for kids, fo real. I mean,
what grown adult buys apple juice for consumption?

So, here I sit, apple juice in my tummy and an ever-so-slightly UP arrow on the CGM. I'm still frustrated that diabetes kicked me in the pants, again. And now, even though I need to clean the dishes and probably start some laundry, my energy is entirely zapped. Thanks for nothing bro.


Popular posts from this blog

The road to curing Type 1 Diabetes

From the moment of diagnosis, the road is rough, the learning curve is steep and the stakes are literally life or death. The map is less-than-helpful - paths originating from virtually every corner, coalescing at a center point (aka "diagnosis") and bursting back outwards - some paths cross and wrap around each other but others are isolated. And even with all of these roads, most of the territory is uncharted - how did we all get here and how will we all exit? Where are the obstacles we haven't found yet? Which passage holds the key to unlocking the solution?

On any given day I feel pretty isolated with this disease - I'm the only T1D in my group at work, the only one in mission control, the only one in my family. I go through the logistics of calling insurance companies, ordering supplies, changing sites and troubleshooting malfunctions mostly on my own. Even those pesky carbs really only get counted in my brain, no group think for a meal bolus here. But there is b…

Critical Space Item: Handle With Extreme Care

Someday I want to open a box. The box will be neatly wrapped up with an excessive amount of packaging. Its contents will have been years in the making, and even though it won't weigh much, this small box will represent a huge step forward.

As most flight hardware begins, the space-rated closed-loop insulin delivery and monitoring device inside the box will be sterile and stark. But as the batteries whir to life and insulin is placed within, it will become an extra appendage, an external pancreas, for this Type 1 astro-hopeful. Bluetooth connections will be made and doctors, hungry for telemetry from my bionic body, will be at the ready. We will rely on each other - he on I for his very existence, and I on him for my continued existence. Together we will make up one whole, completely functioning, Type 1 Diabetic astronaut.

Admittedly, this dream feels further and further from reality. I have lived with this disease just under 20 years now, and the cure has always been "just 5 …

On 20 years with Type 1 Diabetes

I think it's finally time to hit 'publish' on this post, considering it's been sitting here for, oh you know, like 2 weeks now ;-) Sometimes I "April" about things too much (this is Chris's term), and with my dad here for Christmas I realized that it's definitely a trait passed down, haha, love you dad!

To be honest, I never thought the day would come when I would say, "I've had Type 1 Diabetes for 20 years."

20 years ago a cure was 'just on the horizon' and as an 11 year old kid I took that phrase to heart - I had to. My continued existence was based solely on whatever the endocrinologist said - pancreas, insulin, autoimmune, blood sugar, islet cells, shots. I didn't know what I didn't know at that point. I had never heard of an insulin pump or glucose meter. Ketones and hyperglycemia were just big, meaningless words. Carb ratios and counting might as well have been formulas for travelling at light speed. I wasn't ov…
01 09 10